Oriental

Myrrh smells like incense and ancient temples—warm, slightly smoky, and deeply resinous. Imagine the dusty sweetness of aged wood combined with a subtle bitterness, like burnt honey with a whisper of medicinal earthiness. There's a dry, almost leathery quality that coats your mouth when you breathe it in. It's not bright or cheerful; rather, it feels ceremonial and contemplative, reminiscent of the aroma rising from a church censer or the lingering scent in a spice merchant's shop.

Woody

Vetiver smells like freshly turned earth after rainfall, mixed with dry hay and a whisper of smoke. Imagine walking through a sun-baked field where roots and soil still hold morning dew—that's the grounding, slightly dusty quality you'll encounter. There's an almost savoury, mineral-like character, with hints of cedarwood and green tea. It's simultaneously earthy and arid, never sweet, with a faint green-wood quality that feels both calming and deeply natural. Think of it as the scent of resilience and stability in olfactory form.